


A Helping Hand

by SelenaTerna



Series: Random Doctor Who Ficlets [12]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Art student!Rose, Cafe Fic, Doctor!Doctor (tee-tee!), F/M, Fierce!Rose, Fluff, Harriet is still a backbencher....just not the way you'd expect heeheehee, Humour, Romance, Snark, fair warning mickey is a jerk in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-07-14 17:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16045058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaTerna/pseuds/SelenaTerna
Summary: Dr. John Noble hated drama and domestics, and avoided them both like the plague...until he overheard an argument between the new barista at his usual cafe and her ex-boyfriend. To his utter befuddlement, he decided to help her out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goingtothetardis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/gifts).



> Hello shiny people! This fic is a VERY belated birthday fic for the beautiful Heidi- I wanted to get it done before her birthday last week, but unfortunately both technology and circumstance conspired to stop that from happening. I've decided to post the first chapter today, and if people (especially Heidi) like it I'll post the second in the next few days. There's also an epilogue as well.  
> Happy birthday to one of the very best people in the world! I'm sorry you had to spend your birthday at home dealing with a hurricane, but I hope next year will be an AMAZING birthday to make up for it. I hope you like this fic- I know you've been dipping into the human AUs more so I took a chance with one of our very favourite episodes.
> 
> Happy belated birthday my beloved brain twin- I've no idea at all how I ever got along without you <3

“You _what_?”

John Noble stopped in this tracks at the angry female shout from just ahead.

He ordinarily took the back street shortcuts to save time on the way back from lunch, and they were usually deserted. He hadn’t been expecting to walk right into the middle of something just behind his favourite cafe, of all places.

“Look babe, no need to snap, yeah? I’m just sayin’ that if you need me to be your date for Shireen’s wedding, I’ll do it.”

John rolled his eyes and started on his way again. Just a pair of kids arguing about dates or some such. No trouble, then. Just _domestics_.

The girl’s angry retort brought him up short a moment later, however. “Oh yeah, you only _followed_ me to my new job after I told you to stay the hell away from me. But _no need to snap, yeah_?”

John’s eyes narrowed. _Followed_ her? That sounded familiar and more than a little sinister. He sidled a little closer, listening intently, just out of sight. Just in case.

 “An’ now you’re _offerin’_ to take me to Shireen’s weddin’." The girl was scathing in her rage. "Are you plannin’ to take Trisha too? Or you plannin’ to leave your _girlfriend_ to go on her own?”

Come to think of it, the girl’s voice was vaguely familiar. He knew he’d heard it somewhere before. 

“I…I…she….I…” the bloke stuttered, apparently unable to form a coherent sentence.

Idiot.

The girl huffed. “Well, I don’t fancy turnin’ up to my best mate’s weddin’ with my cheatin’ _wanker_ of an ex, thanks ever so!”

John’s eyes widened. He recognised the girl’s voice now- she was the new barista who’d started working at the cafe only two days ago. He’d only ever seen her from a distance, but she seemed nice enough- young, blond, pretty, always ready with a smile. What was her name again?

“Yeah, well you was never around, Rose!”

That was it. _Rose_.

“You was always at uni or workin’- never had time for me!”

“What, so you just go an’ shag Trisha Delaney? Instead of _talkin_ ’ to me, or even tellin’ me you want to break up? You shagged her on the side for month before I caught you! Well you’ve made Trisha’s bed, Mickey Smith, and now you can go fuck yourself in it!”

“You’re the one who went off to that bloody uni! You _changed,_ Rose, have done since that Smith woman gone and put all them fancy ideas in your head. Too good for us now, ‘ey?”

“ _Bull!_ ” the girl – _Rose_ –spat. “You’ve just had it in for the whole thing, ever since I went back for my A-levels. You didn’t want me to do it and you didn’t want me to go to uni neither!”

“Yeah well what for?” the wanker (Rickey?) demanded. “Don’t need that posh rubbish, never ‘ave!”

“ _Because_ _I want to_!” Rose shouted. “I don’t want to work in a shop for the rest of my life.I love art, an’ ‘m _good_ at it an’ I wanted to _do_ something with it! Sarah-Jane helped me get a scholarship, so why shouldn’t I? I understand why you _don’t_ want that, why couldn’t you understand why I _do_?”

Rickey laughed. “What, you fink uni will make you better, ‘s’at it? Reckon you can shake off the Estate and be like those posh birds you see in the cafe? You’re a chav Rose Tyler and any bloke who says otherwise is just tryin’ to get a leg over. You’ll never be one of them.”

John’s fists clenched. He didn’t really know her and didn’t know Rickey at all but he was tempted to march ‘round the corner and belt the wanker just the same.

This Rickey was the most irritating, self-centered little prick he’d run across this week, and considering his current TA was Adric Morell, that was saying something.

“Know what else I am, Mickey? ‘m Jackie Tyler’s daughter. So you best be stayin’ away from me or I’ll slap you into your next girlfriend!”

“Fine.” Rickey huffed. “You want to be a stuck up bitch, then _fine_. You can stag the weddin’- ‘s sad really, can’t even get a bloke at your age. An’ me? I’ll be there with my _girlfriend_.”

The next minute, there was a loud slap.

“You wanker! Fuck off and leave me alone or next time it’ll be a knee in the bollocks instead of a slap in the face!”

In spite of himself, John smiled.This Rose, it seemed, was no simpering girl. She was a _wolf_.

The wanker stormed off, muttering under this breath and John waited with baited breath, wondering if the girl would storm off or go back inside.

She did neither. Instead, a moment later, he heard sniffling.

He cringed.

Bloody hell, she was _crying_. What in the bloody hell was he supposed to do now?He was hopeless with crying females, and relationships and all domestics, great and small. His brain was telling him to slink off, that it wasn’t his problem anyway and it was none of his business if she cried.

However, his conscience was a bastard and wouldn’t let it go.

He sighed.

It was obvious the girl was doing it tough and copping it from all sides. What would it hurt to to go and ask if she was alright? She’d likely tell him to sod off and he’d be on his way to office hours with a clear conscience.Sighing he made his way around the corner to find the girl sitting on a milk crate, head buried in her hands.

“Hello,” he said as mildly as possible, watching to see if she’d welcome his presence. “Alright, then?”

She gasped and looked up, swiping frantically at her face. “Oh,- I-I was just-”

“S’okay. I heard it all.” He cringed at his own bluntness. Blimey, he really was hopeless at this.

“Oh God-‘mso sorry—I-”

“’s alright,” he said, a little more gently this time. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright, me.”

“Oh.” She blinked furiously for a moment. “Thanks. Yeah, ‘m alright.”

“Don’t look it.” He cringed again. _Nice one, Noble._

To his surprise though, Rose laughed, and he was struck dumb by how lovely she was, swollen, tearstained face and all.

He swallowed. “Sorry. I just meant-”

“S’alright,” she huffed. “Bet I look a proper mess.” She swiped ineffectually at her cheeks, and he dug into his pocket to find his handkerchief.

“Nope, just a bit moist.”  This time, he managed to suppress his cringe. _Moist?_ Really? Was that the best he could do?

Miraculously, however, she giggled again. “Right smooth talker, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, grinning sheepishly and handed over his handkerchief. “It’s clean.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you for real, mate?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his leather jacket. “What?”

“You gave me your hankie.”

He shifted again. “Yes, I did.”

“An’ you came to check on me. An’ you don’t even know me.”

He shrugged. “Looked like you could you use a friendly face. And I do so know you!”

She stared at him for so long he started to shift uncomfortably. Finally, her eyes lit up in recognition and she relaxed, taking the hankie. “Oh! You were in the cafe the day before yesterday. In the morning.”

He exhaled a silent sigh of relief. It was just his luck she’d think he was some sort of creeper or something. “Yeah, saw you behind the counter with Harriet. I’m a regular, me.”

She blushed, mopping at her face with the hankie. “I’m sorry you had to see…” she waved her hand wildly. “…all that. I don’t usually have domestics at work, I swear. I know it looks bad and…”

“Here, now.” He pulled up a milk crate and sat down beside her, his booted feet stretched out in front of him. “Not saying anything, me, just wanted to make sure you were alright. To be honest I heard you sayin' Rickey had followed you, was makin a bit of a nuisance of himself and I wanted to make sure you were safe, that he wasn’t….you know.”

She smiled again, and his heart pounded just a little bit faster- so fast that he could have sworn for a moment that he had two heart instead of just the one.

“His name’s Mickey,” was all she said.

He shrugged, secretly pleased that he’d managed to get her to smile. “Rickey, Mickey...”

She giggled and he felt ridiculously pleased with himself. So much so that he almost hated to ask the next question.

“Do you think there’s a chance he’ll come back and make a nuisance of himself?”

She shook her head. “Not in the way you’re thinkin’. He’s a complete wanker, but he’s not a creeper.” She blushed furiously, realising what she’d just said and to whom. “I mean…”

He grinned. “Happen to agree with that sentiment, me. Wanker of the first order, from what I heard.”

She giggled again. “Yeah. But still, ‘m not supposed to swear in front of the customers. ‘S not professional.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re on break, yeah?”

She nodded.

“And we’re not in the shop. So you’re not workin’ and I’m not a customer. Right now, I’m just a bloke chatting to a pretty girl.”

He wanted to kick himself as soon as he’d said it. Was he daft? She’d likely think he was an lecher- old sod like him trying to chat up a beautiful young girl like her.

Thankfully, though she didn’t seem to be offended in the slightest. Instead, she blushed. “Thanks. I’m Rose, by the way. Rose Tyler.”

He beamed, relieved that she’d not been put off by his fumbling attempts at conversation. “Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m John Noble, but most people call me the Doctor.”

She grinned, and her tongue touched her teeth, almost causing his heart to stop. What the devil was the matter with him? His head might as well be made out of plastic for all the good it was doing him right now. He was a grown man, and here he was melting into a pile of goo because a pretty girl had given him a pretty smile.

“ _The Doctor_?” she repeated incredulously.

“That’s me!” He grinned widely and waved at her. “Hello!”

She shook her head. “The Doctor. ‘S’at supposed to sound impressive?”

“Sor’of.” He grinned. God, if she kept smiling at him like that _he_ might start to believe he was impressive. He was fairly certain he could feel the turn of the earth, as it was.

“You’re so full of it,” she grinned back. A moment later, a beeping sounded and she glanced at her watch, sighing. “Break’s up. Thanks, for checking on me… Doctor.”

“My pleasure, Rose Tyler. Now go inside and forget this ever happened.”

She smiled, a little sadly. “Yeah, not likely.”

“Doctor’s orders.” He stood, hating the melancholy that was creeping back into her expression. “You go in and splash a bit of cold water on your face and take a few deep breaths. By the sounds of it you’re a hard-workin’ woman and you’ve got goals- don’t you let Rickey the Wanker get in the way of that.”

She huffed and straightened her spine. “Yeah. Thanks, though. I mean it.”

He smiled at her then- a genuine, soft smile that no one who knew him would ever expect. “See you around.”

He waited until she’d gone in the back entrance of the cafe before heading back to work.

Even as he kicked himself for being a daft sod, he knew he’d be back at the end of the day to make sure that Rickey the Wanker didn’t turn up again.

He refused to consider that it had anything to do with Rose or her smiles, however. He was just making sure the situation with the wanker didn’t take an ugly turn.

That was all.

However, even as he walked away, he knew he was lying.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose Tyler was not one to get flustered or surprised easily. Dr John Noble managed to do both. Luckily for her, she seemed to have the same effect on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo lovelies! Here we have the next chapter of this fic (which, predictably is getting longer and longer hahahhahahhaah). I hope you like (or at least don't hate). At this rate there might be four chapters instead of 3, but eh, we shall see.
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments on the first chapter.
> 
> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine.

Rose carefully wiped down the coffee machine and waited for the next order. It was the slow time of day, an hour or so before closing which meant that she had plenty of time to wallow in mortification at what had happened on her lunch break.

Of all the people who could have stumbled across her and Mickey, why did it have to be _him_? She’d seen him here in the cafe the other day, and had thought he was a bit of alright, but blimey, up close, the man was _dangerous_. Those piercing blue eyes, his tall, lithe build, and _God_ , that Northern accent of his. She shivered just thinking about it.

So why did it have to be _him_? And to make matters worse, he’d been really nice to her. He’d stopped to make sure that Mickey wasn’t stalking her, that she was alright- he’d even given her his hankie, for crying out loud! She’d been a complete mess and honestly, she was lucky he wasn’t putting in a complaint to Harriet- she could definitely think of a few customers who would have.

She groaned. God, he must think her the worst sort of chav after that whole mess. Not that she’d ever have a chance with a bloke like that- he was way out of her league, even if he _was_ single, and anyway, she wasn’t looking- but still, it didn’t mean she had to make the worst possible impression.

“Alright, Rose?” Harriet Jones, the owner of the café asked in concern.

Rose tried to smile at the kindly older woman. She and Sarah-Jane had taken to mothering her ever since her mum had passed away last year. ‘Yeah, ‘m  fine thanks Harriet. Just thought of something is all.”

‘Ah, thinking-, a very dangerous pastime, my dear,” Harriet winked. “Nothing bad, I hope?”

She hated to lie. “No, nothing like that. Just something I have to take care of.”

“Oh, well you be sure to tell me if you need time off for your studies.”

“Yeah.” Rose couldn’t help but smile at the solicitous older woman. “I will, I promise. Thanks Harriet.”

The other woman beamed at her just as the bell rang, signifying that another customer had entered the café.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to the Back Bench, I’m Harriet Jones, owner and….oh Doctor, it’s you!”

“Hiya,” came a familiar, Northern accented voice.

 _Oh God_. It was _him._

Forcing herself to snap out of it, she waited expectantly for Harriet to ring up his order and pass it on. Rose had a job to do and she would not turn into a quivering mess in front of him _again_. Besides Harriet was on the register and she was doing all the talking- Rose just had to make the coffee.

“This is Rose, our lovely new barista- she makes a marvellous cup of coffee!”

Except that it seemed Harriet was determined to get Rose to do some talking too.

“Think we’ve met,” the Doctor rumbled in that gorgeous voice of his.  “Saw her the other morning.’” He turned his piercing gaze on her. “’Lo, Rose. Nice to see you again.”

She swallowed and gave him a nervous smile as she scooped the ground beans. “Lo, Doctor.”

Harriet beamed. “There now, I’m glad you’ve met. Rose has just started university and she’ll be working here for the next few years while she completes her studies. We’re very lucky to have her.”

“That so?” The Doctor lounged against the wall behind him. “Which university?”

Rose smiled, proudly this time. “University of East London.” It may not have been Oxford or Cambridge or one of the posh universities, but it was still a proper university and she’d gotten in there _herself_ , on a merit scholarship. “’m studyin’ fine arts.”

“Blimey, you must be good then- they’ve a fine program, and I’ve heard they’re a tough nut to crack.”

Harriet beamed proudly. “Rose is there on a full scholarship. They’re paying her way for the full three years.”

The Doctor’s blue eyes fixed on her. “Fantastic. Very impressive, that.” He tilted his head. “What’s your medium, then?”

“Oil paintin’, mainly. I love doin’ sketches too, and the newspapers have bought one or two, just rough monochrome stuff, really, but my real love is paintin’.”

“So that's what you want to do?” He tilted his head and looked at her consideringly.

“Well yeah, it’s what I’d like to do, but…well, painters are pretty thick on the ground and you have to have top connections to really get anywhere with it. Wouldn’t mind curatin’ a gallery or somethin’ though. Or maybe doin’ animations of some sort. I could paint on the side. Haven’t really decided yet.”

“Fair enough,” he said easily. “Plenty of time for that, and you’ve a few years ahead of you yet- who knows what kind of connections you might make at uni?”

Rose smiled wryly as she frothed the milk. “Doubt it’ll be _that_ kind of connection, but I’ll just be happy to work in somethin’ I love.”

“Now that’s somethin’ I happen to agree with, me.” He beamed.

“Yeah?” She asked shyly, trying to shield herself from his devastating smile as she carefully placed the cup under the spout.

It didn’t work.

“Yeah.”

“What…what do you do, then?” She asked, trying to focus and not look like a complete nitwit as she poured.

“Doctor,” he shrugged, looking away. “Just a doctor.”

“Hardly _just_ a doctor,” Harriet broke in, bustling over with a sandwich. “Doctor Noble is a Professor of Research Medicine at University College!”

Rose swallowed as her heart sank. Out of her league didn’t even begin to cover it. “Really? That’s….now that’s impressive.”

“Isn’t it!” Harriet beamed as she scurried into the back room. “Rose, dear, I’m going to battle the books for a bit- will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” she managed to smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Harriet beamed and disappeared with the books.

Rose cleared her throat, tamping down on the sudden urge to apologise again for the scene at lunch, now that were alone. She definitely didn’t want to remind him of that ( though she doubted he’d forgotten. “So, you’re a professor?”

“Still just a doctor,” he muttered, the tips of his ears a dull red. “I work at the hospital, like any other doctor. Just lucky enough to do a bit of teachin’ and research as well, me.”

Rose managed to choke a laugh as she carefully placed the cup and saucer on the counter. “You’re definitely not like any doctor _I_ know, that’s for sure.”

“Doesn’t mean much- just lucky enough to work in what I love. Just like you, really.” He shrugged. “Except I dunno anything about art- can’t hold a paintbrush to save m’life, even to paint a fence; me old fella just about gave up on me after that.”

“Yeah, but that’s….paintin’,” she said, shrugged. “’S not like medicine or….or science or something. People don’t think it’s important the same way.”

“Well that’s just daft thinking !” He gazed intently at her. “Art- all the arts- is the voice of the people, the voice of a culture. Centuries later, it’s what people are goin’ to look at to understand who we were, what we were like, what we _felt_ , what’s important to us.” His blue eyes blazed. “It’s _your_ voice, the story you’re tellin.’ I’d say that’s important.”

“Yeah, maybe for the big artists, the stuff people will look at hundreds of years from now….”

He raised his eyebrows. “An’ who were the big artists, when they were at home? A bunch of starving eccentrics nobody would give the time of day, barely managed to sell three paintings between ‘em in their lifetimes, for the most part. But now, you’ve entire courses dedicated to them, people paying millions of pounds for paintings nobody looked twice at once upon a time. Sometimes…” he fixed her with a look that made her wonder what he was _really_ saying. “Sometimes people don’t see what somethin’ is really worth at first, takes ‘em a while.” He smiled, making her heart pound. “Bunch of daft apes, we are, sometimes. But we get there in the end.”

Rose swallowed, unable to make head or tail of this baffling man. He really wasn’t at all what she’d expected some posh professor to sound like. But then, he _wasn’t_ posh, really, was he? For all his job and knowledge and whatnot, he walked, talked, acted and even _dressed_ like a normal bloke. He didn’t act like a pompous professor at all. She just didn’t know what to make of him. Catching sight of the coffee on the counter, she cleared her throat.

“Coffee’s ready,” she said, reminding herself that she had a job to do.

“Oh, so it is. Ta,” he beamed, reaching for it. “Didn’t notice, me. Was to busy chatterin’ on.”

“’S alright,” she smiled. “Was gonna ask if you wanted to sit at one of the tables and eat your sandwich, read the paper.”

“Might do, thanks.” He nodded. “Had a bit of a long afternoon.”

“Go on then,” she said, forcing herself to remember her job. “Sit yourself down an’ I’ll bring the coffee and sandwich over in a mo’.”

“No need,” he said, carefully taking the cup and saucer and balancing his sandwich on top. “I’ve got it. I’ll be sat over there, if you don’t mind, and let you get on.”

She couldn’t help but shake her head with a smile. Nope, _definitely_ wasn’t a pompous professor. “Wherever you like, Doctor. ’S all yours.”

“Ta,” he beamed again as he shuffled over to the nearest table, carefully putting down his coffee. “Oh, by the way, hope you don’t mind my askin’, but d’you take commissions?”

“Commissions?” She stared, feeling as though somebody had hit her between the eyes. “For a _painting_ , you mean? I’ve never…I mean, I’ve never sold any of my paintings, so I’ve never…”

“But would you?” He interrupted. “I mean, could you?”

“I….yeah…I s’pose I could,” she said slowly, trying to work out what he was getting at. Oh God, it wasn’t pity, was it? He was going to commission a painting out of pity.

“Fantastic,” he beamed, sliding into a chair. “It’s my sister’s birthday next month and I still haven’t got her anything. I thought maybe she’d like a painting. She loves art, does Donna.”

Pride and honesty made her point out, “I’m still just a student, you know, an’ there’s lots of better artists than me around. If you want, I could give you some names.”

“You mean you won’t do it?” He looked disappointed, and Rose felt a little less certain than it was pity.

But then why would he want to buy a painting from her? He didn’t know her from Adam and she was still learning.

“’S not that,” she said. “’S just…I’m still learnin’ and besides you’ve never seen any of my work- you might not like it.”

“D’you have somethin’ you could show me?” He asked, looking hopeful. “A sketchbook or sommat?”

Rose blinked at his persistence. “I…yeah, I could show you my portfolio. I….I can bring it tomorrow, if you like.”

“Fantastic. Don’t suppose you’ve got a drawing or something tucked away about you now?” He grinned.

Rose blushed and cleared her throat. “Actually….that one in the corner is one of mine.”

“What?” He stared at her.

“That one there,” she said, pointing.

He looked at an empty wall and then turned back to her. “What? Where?”

Rose tried not to smile. Maybe he was the absentminded professor type after all. “There- the wall right next you.”

“Oh!” He turned to peer at the painting of Harriet’s house in Flydale North. “Fantastic!”

She blushed again and forced herself to start wiping down the coffee machine and counter. “’S just Harriet’s place.”

“It’s bloody brilliant, is what it is,” he told her. “It looks real! I half thought I was looking at a photograph.” He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “Thought you said you hadn’t sold any paintings?”

“I didn’t.” She shrugged as she started clearing out and boxing the remaining pastries and sandwiches. “I did that one for Harriet’s birthday.”

“Right,” he nodded, tuning back to his coffee and sandwich. “Seeing that, I reckon if you’re worried about me likin’ your work, you’re daft!” He cringed. “I mean…”

“’S alright,” she smiled, trying not to laugh and secretly pleased that she didn’t seem to be the only one off balance. “I get it. And thanks.”

“You’re welcome. So you’ll bring me this portfolio tomorrow so I can look at art I already know I like and pretend to make a decision I’ve already made?”

She snorted, unable to help herself at that. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”

“Good.” With that, he tucked into his sandwich and coffee and she was left somewhat bemused (and amused) at his abruptness.

She couldn’t help but like it, though: it was so refreshing to talk to a bloke who said what exactly what he meant. It made for a nice change from blokes who said one thing and did something else.

Finding her thoughts straying to Mickey, she forced her mind back to work and got on with her cleaning.

It was almost closing time.

+++++++++

An hour later, Rose stepped out into the alley-way behind the cafe, closing the kitchen door behind her. God, but she was tired. Thankfully she didn’t have classes today, she couldn’t wait to get home and and put her feet up for a bit before digging into her coursework.

Today had been about her limit, what with the argument with Mickey, and then the Doctor turning up….

She shook her head at that, unable to fathom that she’d been rescued from her ex-boyfriend by some important university doctor-professor - who now wanted to commission a painting! It was all too much and more than anything she just wanted a soak in a hot bath, some chips, and her bed.

Well, she told herself as she made her way down the alley and towards the main street, the chips and the bath she could do. Bed would have to wait; she had work to do.

“Fancy runnin’ into you ‘ere.”

Rose ground her teeth. “What the bloody hell do you want, Mickey? Thought I told you to sod off!”

“Oh well, ‘scuse me, I didn’t realise I was talkin’ to bleedin’ royalty!” He bowed mockingly. “Public street, an’ all, your majesty. Was just pickin’ up a tie for the weddin’.” He fixed her with a smirk. “You know, Shireen’s weddin’? I promised Trisha my tie would match her dress.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “I don’t give a toss if your pants match her toenails. Just bugger off and do whatever it is you need to do and leave me alone!”

“No need to be bitter, Rose.” He titled his head, a smug grin on his face. “Must be hard to see a happy couple when you’re staggin’ it.”

Taking a deep breath, she managed to talk herself out of slapping the smug smile right off his face in the middle of the street.

It was close though.

“Listen,you wanker,” she growled. “I’ll tell you for the last time. I don’t give a toss what you do, and believe me when I say I hope you two are together for a _very_ long time. You deserve each other. What I _do_ care about is you turnin’ up everywhere I go. So I’m tellin’ you for the last time: Leave. Me. The Fuck. Alone!”

“Or what?” He smirked.

“Or I’ll slap you so hard Trisha’s goin’ to have to get half her teeth removed so you can ‘match!’” She growled. “You got that?”

He blinked and shuffled back a bit.

Good. The wanker could see she meant business. Nobody had any business getting between her and her chips after a day’s work.

Especially not Mickey-the-cheating-wanker-Smith.

“Goin’ stag gettin’ to you?” He taunted, trying to get a rise out of her.

“Who said I was goin’ stag?” She smirked, determined not to let him get one over on her.

“Course you are!” Mickey scoffed. “You’re just tryin’ to make me jealous so I’ll take you to the weddin’!”

“Yeah, no,” she rolled her eyes. “What I’m actually tryin’ to do is make you sod off so I can get some chips!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mickey smirked. “You’re bluffin’. You don’t have a date for the weddin’. Who do you even know?”

“I know a lot of people, Mickey,” she smiled viciously, hoping to God she could find someone in time because he’d never let her hear the end of it now. “Lots and lots of people, and any one of ‘em could be my date for the weddin’. Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

(She made a note to ask Harriet if her nephew was still single; Jamie was an alright bloke, and Rose could pass him off as her date for a single event. Probably. If he remembered not to talk about the live dissection of cane toads at the table.)

(Again.)

(Come to think of it, maybe Jamie wasn’t such a good idea.)

“You’re makin’ it up, though.” Mickey narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t got anyone.”

Rose opened her mouth to lie, when somebody beat her to it.

“You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you Rickey?” To Rose’s utter amazement, the _Doctor_ came storming from behind and slipped an arm about her shoulders, glowering at Mickey. “But Rose is goin' to this wedding with me."

Rose felt her head spinning as Mickey spluttered.

What the bloody hell was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Come follow me at countessselena.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Rose confront Mickey...and then the elephant in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooo lovelies! Here is the next chapter of this fic, I hope you like! Sorry for the delay but RL has been hectic and the muse fickle. Hopefully, this chapter isn't TOO disappointing. I've tweaked it numerous times, but....eh. Muse is rude. Anyway, just the epilogue to go after this (which might just be at the wedding, cough cough). Hope you enjoy (or don't hate).

John stood with his arm around Rose, unable to believe what he’d just done.

He’d just invited himself to a stranger’s wedding with Rose.

As her date.

In front of Rickey the Idiot.

He was right royally buggered.

“What? Who the bloody hell are you?” The idiot spluttered. “An’ what d’you mean, Rose is going to the wedding with _you?”_

Peering at Rose out of the corner of his eye, he was relieved to note she didn’t look angry.  Confused, and more than a little irritated at Rickey the Idiot, but she wasn’t slapping John or calling him a perv.  He’d take that and be grateful.

“Well?” Rickey demanded. “Who the bleedin’ hell are you?”

Turning his attention back to the idiot, he sneered, folding his arms. “Told you; ‘m Rose’s date.”

“Says who?” Scoffed Rickey.

“Says me!” To John’s utter relief, he felt Rose slip her arm through his.

She wasn’t angry.

Thank God.

“Wha’? This old sod? Bit young for you, isn’t she dad?” The boy raised his eyebrows meaningfully.

“ _This old sod_ has a name, thanks ever so.” John raised his own eyebrows in return. “Thankfully _not_ your dad. Reckon I’d kick myself if I were.” He mentally preened at Rose’s amused snort. “An’ I think even I might have struggled fatherin’ a child at the age of ten.”

“Think a bit much of yourself, do you?”

“Not as much as he should,” Rose broke in heatedly. “He’s a doctor, an’ a professor of research medicine at one of the posh colleges, an’ you know what Mickey? He’s a better man than you.”

John tried to keep his shock and elation inside, scowling at the idiot boy all the while. She didn’t mean it, he told himself. She was obviously trying to save face in front of the idiot. That was all.

“What, because he’s some rich old sod with a lot of with a fancy job?”

“No arsehole, because he’s _kind_ ,” Rose cut in before the idiot could continue. “He treats people like they matter, even strangers. He’s a professor an’ a doctor, but he’s never treated me like I wasn’t important, even though I’m just a student.He’s even supportive of my art.” She glared. “He’s treated me better than you ever did. Maybe he’s abit blunt sometimes, but you know what? Least he’s honest.” She cocked an eyebrow. “More’n I can say for you, innit? So you know what? ‘m proud to go to this wedding with him. I’d be proud to go anywhere with him. Because he’s…he’s a _good_ bloke.”

John managed to keep his shock at her words from showing on his face.

Just.

Blimey. He didn’t know what to make of _that_ little speech.

“Whatever,” Mickey sniffed. “’S obvious you’re just shaggin’ him for a few quid.”

John growled and started towards him but Rose got there first, shutting the idiot up with an almighty slap.

“Ow! Bloody hell, Rose, my face is burnin’! ’s probably a mark!”

“You say that about me again, Mickey Smith, an’ I’ll give you a matching one on the other side!” Rose glared at the idiot boy, arms folded and John tamped down a surprising  flare of arousal. “You know bloody well I’m nobody’s bit on the side and an’ I pay my own way!” 

“Why else would you be hookin’ up with him, then?” Rickey demanded.

Rose growled and stepped forward, and John was gratified to notice the idiot shuffled backwards immediately. “‘m not gonna say it again, wanker. You best fuck off now or you might just have a matching mark on your face in a minute.”

“Oi, there’s no need to-”

“There’s every bloody need if you’re goin’ to _stalk and harass_ me, Mickey Smith. Now, are you goin’ to fuck off or not? ‘Cause if not, I’ve got a witness right here that says you were followin’ me even after I told you to bugger off.”

“Too right you do,” John growled. “I’ve half a mind to report him now.”

“Alright, alright,” Rickey broke in hurriedly. “Be like that.”

“I’m givin’ you three seconds to shove it, Mickey.”

The idiot fixed an ingratiating look on his face. “Can’t blame me for bein’ worried. Known each other since we was kids, Rose.”

Rose scowled, obviously not buying it. “One.”

“Alright, fine!” The idiot scowled, all attempts at placation gone. “You want to shack up with an old bloke for a few quid, _fine._ ”

“Two.”Cocking an eyebrow, she folded her arms. “An’ ‘old bloke’? Really, Mickey? You jealous? ‘Cause I reckon even _you_ can see this bloke would never need to spend a single quid.”

The tips of his ears burning hot, John fixed what he hoped what a smug look on his face, for the idiot’s benefit. Blimey but Rose was going all out. Still, he was fairly certain she was just saying it for the idiot’s benefit.

Wasn’t she?

“What, me jealous of an old sod with a nose from here to Monday?”

Rose growled and took a single step forward. _“Three.”_

Evidently even the idiot knew enough was enough and took off. “See you and your _date_ at the weddin’, Rose!”

John snorted. As an exit line, it was pathetic.

“Arsehole,” Rose muttered.

“Too right.” John nodded, freezing when her gaze fell on him, and he suddenly remembered that he’d just invited himself to her friend’s wedding.

In front of her wanker of an ex.

After following her from the cafe to make sure Rickey left her alone.

What on earth could he say now?

He smiled nervously and swallowed, hoping that something, _anything_ would come out of his mouth and fix the mess he was in.

Predictably, the only word that came out of his mouth was the most useless one possible.

“Hello,” he said hoarsely.

+++++++++

Rose stared at the most remarkable man she’d ever met.

 _Hello?_ This bloke had helped her save face in front of Mickey, stuck up for her, had overheard one hell of a domestic, announced he was taking her to Shireen’s wedding…. and all he could say was _hello?_

“H-hello,” she said faintly, still staring at him. Catching herself she cleared her throat, a flush of moritification heating her cheeks. “Um, ‘m sorry you had to see that….”

“Don’t apologise!” He cut in. “Not your fault the Rickey the Idiot decided to follow you to rub his ‘matching tie’ in your face, is it?”

Rose stared. “How did you know that?”

For some reason, the questino made him flush, right to the tips of his ears. “I might’ve overheard him.”

“What, seriously?” She frowned. “How long were you standin’ there?”

“A while,” he muttered, looking at the ground. “ Happened to be passin’.”

“Passin’ where?” Why was he acting so funny?

“Just….passin’ through,” he muttered.

“Where to?” She wondered, cursing her luck. What were the odds that he’d stumble across her in an embarrassing situation not once, but _twice_ , today?

He grimaced, and then sighed. “Alright, I admit it. I ….I was followin’ you.”

Rose blinked in surprise. “What? What for?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “I was worried that Rickey might come back so I just….I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“You….you did?” She swallowed. “Why would you do that?”

He cleared his throat, folding his arms. “Just thought he might give you a bit of trouble. So I thought I’d just keep an eye on things. Just in case.”

“Oh,” she swallowed, forcing down her mortification. “An’ you ended up coppin’’ more domestics and an’ dragged to a weddin’.” Taking a deep breath, she faced it head on. “‘m so sorry, Doctor. I just…I’m so sorry about all this. You must think I’m such a chav-”

“Course not, don’t be daft!” He interrupted, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “An’ if anyone should be apologisin’, it’s me.”

“You?” She gaped. “What on earth you sorry for?”

He sighed. “Followin’ you here, for starters. Eavesdropping on your little chat with Rickey.”

In spite of her mortification, she couldn’t help a small smile. “It’s Mickey.”

“Rickey, Mickey.” He shrugged. “Same thing. Either way, he’s an idiot.” He rubbed his forehead. “Can’t forget the elephant in the room either- annoucin’ to Mickey that I’m your date for your mate’s wedding.”

Rose shook her head in bafflement. “Wait, you think I’m angry at you?”

“Course you are, and you have every right to be.” He exhaled loudly. “Embarrassed you in front of Mickey, and practically forced meself on you, didn’t I?”

“What? Forced?” She stared at him. “Where d’you get that idea? What-”

“Oh come on Rose.” He barked a laugh. “You don’t need to spare m’feelings and pretend it doesn’t bother you. Old sod like me pretendin’ to be your date in front of that little git? You must’ve been mortified, and I’m sorry. I just…I couldn’t stand there and let him-”

Utterly gobsmacked by the fact that he thought _she’d_ be embarrassed by _him_ , and unable to get a word in, she gave up and covered his mouth with her hand, cutting him of mid-sentence. “Right, can I talk now?”

“Rose,” he said, somewhat muffled by her hand. “Please, I-”

“Oi, ’s my turn to talk now,” she told him. “You listenin’?”

He exhaled and nodded.

“Right.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t even know where to start. I can’t….today has just been _mental_. First Mickey pays a visit and acts like a wanker, an’ then you show up out of the blue like a bleedin’ white knight, hanky an’ all. An’ then you came back and so did Mickey and you helped me _again_ and said you were my date, an’…..” She trailed off and shook her head, taking another deep breath, trying to get her thoughts in order. “I s’pose what I’m tryin’ to say is today has been one surprise after another. An’ you Doctor….you’re a surprise.”

“‘m sorry-” he said, her hand vibrating with the sound of his voice.

“Oi, talkin’ here! Could I have a bit of hush?” She said sternly, wondering where all this courage was coming from. A few moments ago, she’d been ready to die of embarrassment, and now she had her hand clapped over his mouth.

He snorted a laugh and nodded, subsiding.

“Like I was sayin’, you’re a complete surprise,” she told him. “You helped me, even though you didn’t know me.” She shook her head. “Thought you’d avoid me like the plague, after that. Would’t blame you if you did. But then you came back! And talked to me. You stayed to make sure Mickey wasn’t some creeper who was goin’ to hurt me.” She swallowed. “An’ you came chargin’ to my defence because Mickey was bein’ an arse about the weddin’. You tried to help me save face by sayin’ you were my date. An’ you think I’m pissed off at you?” She shook her head. “You must be mental!”

He stared at her, blue eyes wide.

“You put yourself out, more than once, to help me. Have to be mental not to be grateful for that. An’ you know what, Doctor? I meant every word I said to Mickey. You’re a _good_ bloke.” She swallowed, the words burning bitter in there throat. “You’re a respectable professor, an’ because of my mess, you found yourself havin’ to step in to pretend to escort to an Estate chav to a weddin’. If anyone has the right to be angry, Doctor, it’s you.”

“What?” he exclaimed, muffled by her hand.

She shrugged, the events of the day washing over her anew. “’S true. You’re an important bloke and I’m from the Estate. ’S kind of insultin’ to you to say you have a date with me, innit?”

 _“What?”_ He exclaimed, still muffled. He covered her hand with his own and gently tugged until she’d released him. Meanwhile she stood still, gaze fixed on the ground.

“Rose, Rose look at me.”

She kept her focus on the ground, unable to look at him now that it had all run through her mind again. It was all just too embarrassing.

“Rose.”

For some reason, his gentle tone made her eyes fill with tears.

“Oi, look at me now.” A hand slipped under her chin and gently tilted her head until she was looking at him. “That’s better.”

She blinked at the tears and said nothing. What could she say?

“Here now, I won’t have any of that, Rose Tyler. Don’t buy any of that class nonsense, me, an’ anyway, you’re bloody impressive, if you ask me.”

She sniffed. “You don’t have to say that.”

“Oh but I do. Was impressed by you the first time I heard you blastin’ Rickey, before I even knew who you were.” He grinned. “Heard you wipin’ the floor with him because he didn’t appreciate your hard work, an’ I thought, that woman has drive. She’s got guts. Takes a lot of hard work to do what you’re doing, and you should be very, very proud.”

“Yeah?” She said softly, unable to believe what he was saying. He was just being kind….wasn’t he?

“Yeah.” He released her, folded his arms and nodded. “You’re a hard workin’, intelligent, talented young woman.” He cleared his throat. “Not bad to look at, either, considerin’.”

“Considering what?” She choked a laugh. His bluntness was becoming more and more appealing the minute.

“Considerin’ you look like you’ve been crying,” he told her. “Eyes are red and you look a bit moist, again. You still got that hanky?”

“Yeah,” she sniffed, digging into her pocket.

“Good. Mop up, then.”

She laughed again.

“That’s better,” he grinned. “You’ve got a nice smile, Rose Tyler.”

“So do you.” She paused. “I mean it though Doctor. I don’t expect you to go to the weddin’ just because of Mickey. I’ll think of somethin.’.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Is that because you think I don’t want to or because you don’t want me to?”

“What?”

He shrugged. “Nice young woman like you, wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to take someone else. Someone your own age.”

“Oh my God, are we havin’ this discussion again?” She exhaled, gathering her courage. “Doctor, don’t you get it? I’m worried about _you._ I don’t want you to feel you have to take me just because of the whole mess with Rickey. But for the record? I’d be proud to go _anywhere_ with you.”

His eyes grew wide. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “You’re pretty amazin’, you know, an’ not just because you’re a doctor.”

“Blimey.” He exhaled. “So….you wouldn’t mind it, then. Bein’ seen with me.”

“I’d be _proud_ ,” she told him, meaning every word. “But I’d never ask it of you.”

“What if I offered?”

“What?” She stared at him.

“What if you didn’t ask me? What if I offered to take you to the wedding?”

“You’d…you’d do that?” Eyes wide, she shook her head. “You don’t even know me, an’ for that matter, I don’t know you. Why would you do that?”

“I do so know you,” he grinned, repeating his words from earlier that day. “But you’re right, we don’t know each other.”

Rose felt a disappointment in the pit of her stomach.

“So why don’t we get to know each other?”

She gawked at him. “What?”

He cocked his head. “When’s this wedding?”

“Three weeks,” she said faintly. He wasn’t suggesting what she thought he was, was he?

“Alright, so we’ve got a bit of time. Let’s get a bit of dinner and have a chat, get to know each other.” He grinned. “You can call anybody you like for references, I’ll even give you my mobile to do it.”

“References?”

“Yeah.” He nodded emphatically. “Prove I’m not a lunatic, or some such.”

“I don’t think you’re a lunatic,” she said slowly. And to her surprise, she meant it.

“Can never be too careful,” he said cheerfully. “You should call Harriet too- known me for a good few years, she has. You can even call grandpa Wilf, if you like.”

“Grandad Wilf?”

“My grandad, and best bloke there ever was,” he beamed. “He was in the parachute regiment, in his day.”

“Yeah?” She asked, fascinated.

“Yeah.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll tell you all about him, if you like, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer a table indoors over the middle of an alley-way.”

Unable to help herself, Rose laughed. “Alright, alright. Table it is. If you’re loony enough to want to stick around after everything today, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s the spirit!” He beamed. “What do you fancy?”

“Chips,” she said immediately. “I want chips.”

“Just chips?” He frowned.

“I love chips,” she protested.

“Alright, pub it is.” He strode forward and peered out at the main-street for a few moments. “Think the Langley and the Horse and Jockey are both nearby.”

“Horse and Jockey please,” she said, her mouth watering at the thought of their magnificent chips.

“Horse and Jockey it is,” he said, peering at the traffic. Spying a break in traffic, he seized her hand and shouted, “Run!”

They ran.


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and John attend Shireen's wedding....and have a very important chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AT LAST the epilogue for this little fic is up! Sorry it's been months but RL has been....less than kind, and it's been difficult to find my words. This is probably entirely rusty and stiff and OOC but all mistakes are mine as this hasn't been beta'd. 
> 
> I hope you all like (especially Heidi) or at least that you don't hate!

“Right, you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” John tugged at his tie. “I look ridiculous in this getup.”

Donna rolled her eyes and slapped his hands away from the knot.

Again.

“It’s a _wedding_ , Doctor, you can’t go in a leather jacket and jumper.”

John scowled, shifting in his uncomfortable clothes. Again. “Don’t see why not. Not trying to impress anyone, me.”

“Oh, no?” Donna cocked an eyebrow. “Not even Rose?”

He felt the tips of his ears heating up. “We’re just friends.”

“You have got to be _joking_ ,” Donna scoffed. “For three weeks, it’s been nothing but ‘Rose this’ and ‘Rose said that’ and ‘where are you off to John? Oh, I’m off to a movie with Rose’.” She fixed him with a look. “And you’re trying to tell me there’s nothing going on?”

“There isn’t,” he protested, trying to make it sound convincing.

“You’ve stopped by the cafe to see her twice a day and taken her out eight times in three weeks!”

His jaw dropped. ““How in the bloody hell did you know that? What, you spying on me now?”

“Of course not,” Donna scoffed. “Grandad is.”

“He _what?”_

Donna shrugged in that irritating manner of hers. “Your neighbours are helpful.”

“Who….Joan Redfern,” he growled. “That interfering old biddy needs to mind her own business, and- oi, keep your hands to yourself!” He scowled, rubbing the back of his head.

Blimey but Donna had a strong slap.

“Don’t be disrespectful towards a sweet old lady, then,” she sniffed.

“Sweet old….Donna, she pokes her nose into every bloody part of my life and now you’re telling me she’s feeding intelligence to me own grandad!” He growled. “Nothing sweet about her!”

“She’s just worried about you. She likes you,” Donna smirked. “If she were 30 years younger….”

“Oi, none of that!”

“Well then, you should be grateful you’re with Rose now.”

John sighed in exasperation. “For the hundredth time, Donna, I’m not _with_ Rose.”

Donna watched him for a moment. “But you’d like to be, wouldn’t you?”

John scowled.

“You should, you know. I like her, Grandad likes her, and Lord knows why, she seems to like you too.”

He swallowed painfully. “Donna, she doesn’t-”

“Good grief, Spaceman, how are you this _thick?”_

“Stop calling me that ridiculous name,” he growled, ruthlessly suppressing the little voice of hope in the back of his head.

“When you stop obsessing over Grandad’s old telescope, I’ll stop calling you Spaceman. And you _are_ thick,” she added for good measure.

“Donna, she’s too young-”

“Come off it,” she cut in. “She’s twenty six.”

“What? How’d you know that?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“I asked her,” Donna shrugged. “And twenty-six isn’t exactly a child compared to your ancient self at thirty-eight, is it?”

“It’s twelve years,” he pointed out, trying desperately not to get his hopes up.

“So?” She shrugged. “Lee’s eight years older than me, and Grandad Wilf was thirteen years older than Nan. What of it?”

“Even so,” he managed. “She doesn’t….Donna she doesn’t see me that way. I’m just a friend, a nice older bloke. Like a big brother.”

“A _brother?”_ She snorted. “Believe me, If I looked at you like that I’d have myself committed. Trust me, Doctor, she looks at you the same sickening way you look at her.”

“She what?”

Groaning in frustration, Donna swatted him up upside the head. “She moons over you the same way you moon over her, idiot! It’s nauseating, the way two carry on. Honestly, Doctor, a woman doesn’t look at a man like _that_ unless she’s bonkers about him!”

“You mean she might….” He trailed off, unable to say it.

“I don’t mean she _might_ anything! I mean she’s bonkers about you.”

“I….we’ve only known each other a few weeks,” he protested feebly, trying by any means not to dream of the impossible.

“So what? You’re not proposing, you’re going to date her!” Donna rolled her eyes. “Just kiss her already and spend the rest of your life getting to know her!

“I can’t-”

“Oh shut it,” Donna exhaled. “Right, I’ve had it with this pity party so here’s what going to happen. You’re going to shove off. You’re going to pick up Rose- and you’re going to tell her she looks gorgeous- and you’re going to this wedding and you’re going to dance and meet all of Rose’s friends and then you’re going to kiss her and bloody date the woman. You got that?”

“I don’t dance!” He folded his arms, wishing for his leather jacket. He felt naked in this ridiculous tuxedo. “And I don’t meet friends either.”

“You do now. Move it!”

“It’s my flat! You can’t kick me out of my own flat!” He protested.

“Oh can’t I?” Donna cocked an eyebrow, picked up his coat and flung his car keys at him. “Watch me sunshine.”

“Oi!”

“Don’t you ‘oi’ me- get your sorry arse out that door and don’t come back until you’ve stopped being a miserable sod!”

“An’ what if she says no?”

Donna rolled her eyes and pushed him out the door. “Goodbye, Doctor.”

“But what if she does?”

Donna must have heard the anxiety in his tone because her expression softened slightly. “She won’t, Doctor. Just…be honest with her, alright? Be honest and let the rest take care of itself. Good luck!”

The door slammed shut in his face.

John exhaled. “Blimey.”

Could it be true? Could Rose really want him the same way he wanted her? What if Donna was wrong? What if he said something and ruined everything?

“You _won’t!”_ Donna shouted through the door. “Now stop getting lost in that oversized brain of yours and _move_ it!”

“Right,” he muttered, scowling at the door. “Well, here goes nothing.” Inhaling, he slipped on his coat and trudged forward. “Luck be a lady.”

++++++++

A few hours later, he wanted nothing more than to take Rose’s hand and pull her out the door.

He scowled when yet another bloke smiled a bit too warmly at Rose as they made their way through the hall back to their table after the obligatory (and painful) dance (if you could call a ridiculously fast shuffle in which he didn’t even get to hold Rose a ‘dance’). Thankfully, there was no sign of the other two couples. He didn’t feel like making small-talk and hadn’t been able to string more than a few words together for a good few hours.  He’d almost swallowed his tongue when he’d seen Rose in her red dress (blimey, she looked beautiful) and he’d been on tenterhooks during the service at the quaint little church, and meeting Rose’s friends afterwards. Luckily they hadn’t had to hang about much before nipping off to the reception hall. He’d been burning with indecision for hours, torn between wanting to blurt out his question and yet wanting to avoid the topic at all costs. He’d probably been even worse company that usual, he thought darkly. Honestly, it was pitiful.

“Everything alright, Doctor?”

He blinked, startled out of his reverie. “What? Oh, I’m fine.”

“You just look a bit….”Rose bit her lip, looking uncertain. “If you don’t want to do this, I mean, if you’ve had enough-”

“No, no! It’s not that. It’s still early! I just…I’m a bit shy, me.” He blurted out the first excuse that came to his head. “Don’t do well with meeting friends and what have you.”

 _“Shy?”_ She looked at him disbelievingly.

“That’s right!” He nodded madly, mentally kicking himself for coming up with such a ridiculous excuse. “Shy Northern boy. Gentle, er, _gruff_ forest creature, that’s me.”

“Forest creature?” She said faintly before sighing. “I knew this was….Look, honestly Doctor, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. You can leave anytime you want and if you’re worried about Mickey bein’ an arse, we can say it’s an emergency and you got called in to the hospital, yeah? He can’t say anything about that.”

“What?” He stared at her in confusion.  

She tried to smile. “You got him off my back, an’ that’s more than I honestly could have asked for. I won’t make you stay somewhere you’re uncomfortable just so I can save face, though. You go on outside, and I’ll tell them you got a call.”

“Call?” He repeated in bafflement.  Why was she trying to push him into leaving?

“Yeah….just, you know, pull out your phone or somethin’ on the way, to make it look real.” She managed to force a weak smile. “Bit of the old theatrics, hey?”

“What?” He said again.

“Just….go on,” she said, her voice wobbling slightly. “It’ll be fine. Best go now while the going’s good.”

He cleared his throat, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. “You want me to clear off, then?”

“What? No! I just…..I’m trying to make it easy for you to go. If you want.”

The lump in his throat eased slightly. “But why?”

“I…” It was Rose’s turn to swallow. “I just thought you wanted to go, so I was just tryin’ to make it easy for you.”

“You _what?”_

“I…you just….you’ve been so _quiet_ and you’ve been so…different, I just thought…I thought maybe you regretted coming, and you were just makin’ yourself stay…for me. You know. ‘cause of Mickey.”

“You _what?”_ He was really going to have to stop with the ‘whats’, he grumbled to himself, because he sounded sounded like a stupid ape. Or worse, he shuddered, _Rickey_. “Why on earth would you think a daft thing like that?”

“I told you!” She exclaimed. “You were bein’ all quiet and serious and….weird. Not like you at all. What else was I supposed to think?”

“Maybe I was preoccupied with something else!” He said, folding his arms, offended. “Ever think of that?”

“Well how am I supposed to know?” She folded her own arms and stared defiantly back at him. “I’m not a mind reader an’ you’ve barely said _anythin’_ since you picked me up!”

“That’s your fault!”

“My fault?” She exclaimed. “How is it my fault?”

“Because I took one look at you in that dress and lost every word in my head!” He exclaimed.

“I-you what?” She stared.

“That’s right! Big old brain, can’t shut me up at the best of times, and all it takes is one look at you in that dress an’ I can’t find two words to rub together.” He tried not to cringe as said big old brain pointed out that he’d just blurted a lot more than he’d intended. Well, may as well be hung for a sheep… “And it was your fault I was worried in the first place!”

“Why?” Rose said, shaking her head in confusion. “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No, that’s just it Rose!” He groaned, giving up on any attempt not to make a complete arse of himself. “It’s….you’ve done everything _right!”_

“I…did?” She blinked. “And that’s….bad?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve gone and put ideas in my daft head, Rose! Got me thinkin’ about things I shouldn’t and now I’ve gone an’ buggered it all up, haven’t I!”

“What…” she swallowed. “What d’you mean?”

“Well, I’ve gone and stuck me foot in it now, haven’t I?” He rubbed at his face in frustration. “Here’s me dithering all night if I should say somethin’ or if I should keep my gob shut and now I’ve gone and blurted it all out!”

“What, you mean about likin’ my dress?”

“Yes! No! Well, sort of.” He rubbed at his face and sighed. “I’m old, Rose. Too old, I know that. But….”

“But what?” She said quietly.  “Too old for what, Doctor?”

This was it. He either had to tell her or make a run for it. Either way, things were going to change now. It was too late for anything else. He supposed he should be grateful for the music that kept their words from everyone else. Pushing aside every last screaming thought that he was too old, too jaded, _not enough,_ that she’d hate him, he took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. “I’m mad for you, Rose.”

He cringed at her gasp, his heart sinking.

That was that, then.

“You…you are?”

He nodded, unable to say a single word past the lump in this throat.

“You mean you…” she took a deep breath. “You…care. About me.”

He nodded again.

“More than a friend.”

Another nod.

“Say it, Doctor.” Her voice wobbled. “Please.”

He managed to force a single word out. “Yes.” Her eyes filled with tears and if it weren’t an impossibility he’d have sworn his heart had literally sunk. She didn’t want him. He should have known, he _had_ known, and then Donna had gone putting ideas in his head and giving him hope….

“I’m sorry.”

She blinked back her tears. “What for?”

He stared at the tablecloth, fingers clenched in an attempt to contain his roiling emotions. “For….for ruining everything. For making you…uncomfortable. I’d never expect you to care for an old sod like…. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, her fingers were under his chin and forcing him to look at her. “Don’t….don’t say that.”

He forced himself to keep her gaze whilst his heart burned on the inside.  He couldn’t bear her pity. “I am though.”

To his surprise, she groaned. “How are you so thick?”

“What you say that for?” He managed, ruthlessly quelling the quiet voice that said maybe he’d misunderstood, that maybe she….

_Shut it._

“You’re so daft!” She laughed, wiping her eyes. “God, I hope my makeup didn’t run. Thank God for waterproof mascara.”

“Oi, what’re you on about?” He demanded in puzzlement, his heart beating faster in anticipation, in spite of his scared, tired head.

She shook her head. “Well, you are. Thick I mean. You tell me you care about me one minute and them you’re apologisin’ and about ready to run yourself through the next.”

“I thought-”

“Tell me something, Doctor,” she interrupted, placing a finger on his lips. “Do I look mad?”

He blinked, and shook his head, hope building a little more.

“Do I look upset?”

He stared at her, gently pulling her finger away from his lips. “Are _you_ daft? You’re cryin’! I made you cry.”

“Because I’m _happy_ , you stupid sod!” She exclaimed. “I’m cryin’ because you said somethin’ I never, ever though you would and I’m _happy!”_

He froze, too afraid to even breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m _happy,_ Doctor! I’m _happy_ you…care about me.”

“You are?” He inhaled, hope burning hot in his heart.

“Yes!” She laughed and wiped at her eyes again.

“Why?” He had to ask, to make absolutely sure.

“Because I’ve fallen for you, you bloody great git!”

He felt as though someone had breathed new life into him. “You have?”

“Yes!”

“Thank God for that,” he exhaled. “Got me smitten, you have.”

“Yeah?” She smiled, eyes shining.

“Pathetically besotted.” He took a deep breath. “Are you…”

“If you ask me if I’m sure, I’m goin’ to smack you one. Jackie Tyler style.”

“Blimey, you’d think your mum was Bruce Lee.” He rubbed at his cheek. “No need for that, I saw what you did to Rickey.”

“Good.” She fixed him with a look. “Why on earth would you think I wouldn’t want you? I’ve been mad for you for…God, weeks!”

“You have?” Without his permission, a smile spread across his face. “What on earth for?”

“Are you serious?” She stared in disbelief. “Doctor, I’ve been mad for you since we met! How could I not? You’re gorgeous and _kind_ …brilliant….and best of all you treat me like I’m worth somethin’, like I matter.” She blinked back sudden tears. “Goes right to a girl’s heart, that.”

“But you never said anything!” He suddenly felt indignant about all the worrying held been doing.

“What, like you did?” She scoffed. “An’ anyway, how could I say anything? You’re all that an’ a famous professor and I’m a nobody! I thought you wouldn’t want me and I was scared that if I said anythin’ I’d scare you off!”

“Oi!” He seized her hand and leaned close. “You listen to me, Rose Tyler: you are _not_ nothing. You’re brilliant and kind and gutsy and beautiful and all the things I thought a grumpy old sod like me could never have.”

“Yeah?” She breathed, her smile a mile wide.

“Yeah.” He nodded emphatically, his gaze on hers. “Rose, you….you’re fantastic.”

Her smiled lit up the room so much he was astounded that nobody noticed. “Same goes, you know.”

“Yeah?” He breathed. “Fantastic.” He let go of her and leaned back, shaking his head ruefully. “You know, I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation before. Here’s me all tied up in knots, tryin’ to get the blasted words out of my mouth, worried you’d hate me and here was you worrying about exactly the same thing!”

“Yeah, and you had me scared that you wanted to leave!” She added indignantly.

“I was worried!” He defended himself. “I didn’t know what to say!”

“So was I!” She said. “But at least I didn’t make you think that I was angry!”

“No, you just made me think you wanted me to shove off!”

“I was tryin’ to help! Because you weren’t talkin’!”

“Because I was afraid!”

“Well so was I!”

“Well, I told you now, didn’t I?”

“Only because I made you talk! And you tried fobbin’ me off with some story about bein’ shy.”

He cringed. “You have me there. Blimey, that was daft.”

She gave him a sudden, tongue-touched smile that made him very grateful that he was sitting down. “Yeah, it was.”

He exhaled. “So….”

“So,” she echoed.

“Looks like we both have… _feelings_.”

“Looks like.”

“And they’re the same,” he felt compelled to add. Just to make sure.

“Yep.”

No hesitation.

He smiled, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. “So what d’you think we should do about it?”

“Welllll…..” She drawled, and he sat up at the gleam in her eye. “I s’pose there’s a lot of things we could do about it. We could have a dance, a proper dance as…. a couple.”

He groaned even as he beamed at the thought of Rose being a couple with _him_. “Do we have to?”

“The world doesn’t end when the Doctor dances,” she grinned, melting his resistance. Blimey, he’d do _anything_ to see that smile. “Or….we could go on a proper date, when we get out of here. Maybe have a drink, do some stargazing.”

“Yeah?” He swallowed. “Sounds fantastic.”

“But maybe we need something to start off with. Something special. Something _now_.” She leaned closer, her brown eyes aflame with something he was too much of a coward to name.

“Yeah?” He said faintly. “Like what?”

“Like a kiss,” she said huskily.

“Could do, yeah,” he managed. Blimey, when had it gotten so hot in here?

“Then kiss me, John,” she whispered.

“What’ll you do if I don’t?” He managed in a strangled voice.

She smiled and leaned in closer. “ _I’ll_ kiss _you_.”

And she did.

At the first press of her lips on his, John was certain that the earth had imploded and they had reached the very end of the world. Stars exploded behind his eyes and after that he was lost to everything but the taste and feel of her.

Eventually they broke apart for air and only then noticed the cheers and whistles around them. They’d completely forgotten where they were and it seemed as though the entire hall had witnessed their little display. John was, however, particularly gratified to note the jealous scowl on Rickey’s face across the room.

“Nicely done, Rose! You go girl!” The bride cheered from the head table.

“Oh my God,” Rose groaned and buried her face in her hands. “I forgot about them.”

“Me too,” he said, the the tips of his ears hot with embarrassment.

“She’s never going to let me live this down,” Rose said, voice muffled.

“Oooooh, Rose is goin’ a bit red, Doctor John!” The groom called out gleefully.

“I reckon she needs a doctor!” The bride hollered.

“Oh my God,” Rose groaned. “She did not.”

“She did,” John said indignantly. “That should be _my_ line.”

“Doctor!” Rose looked up, eyes wide, her lips looking red and plump and very, very kissed.

“What, I’m just sayin’ there are a few privileges I reserve for myself and that’s one of them.”

“Yeah? What’re the others?”

“This.” And unable believe what he was doing, unable to help himself, he drew her into his arms and kissed her again.

And again.

What seemed like hours later they emerged to more cheers, and he grinned cheekily at Rose.

“Only one thing we can do now,” he told her, not knowing what to do with all of the joy suddenly bubbling through him.

“What?” She asked, tongue touching her teeth.

Seizing her hand, he shouted, “Run!”

And they did.

_Fin_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come follow me at countessselena.tumblr.com


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